


Operation: Christmas

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 25 days of ficmas [20]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Dancing and Singing, F/M, Friendship, Healing, Homemade Gifts, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, bucky is in the compound, traditional christmas, vicious game of monopoly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 04:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17073434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: After joining the team, Bucky celebrates his first Christmas for over 70 years. He doesn’t understand all the new traditions but the team try their best to help him adjust and give him a Christmas he’ll always remember.





	Operation: Christmas

It had been subtle to start with. Little, completely believable excuses that no-one would ever question. As Christmas drew nearer, though, the excuses reared their head more frequently. It became more than simply disliking the festive choice of films on movie night or wanting to avoid the huge crowds when the team had been to switch on the Christmas lights.

The carefully iced sugar cookies that Sam proudly presented the team were left on the side, without a single crumb touched. Every sickeningly sweet concoction - ranging from the classic gingerbread hot chocolate to the unusually spiced fruit lattes - which Tony or Clint brought back from Starbucks was refused. When the familiar sound of jingle bells and cheesy Christmas music blared through the speakers, he would drop whatever he was doing and leave the room in an instant. Tony would sigh and call him a Grinch but you feared it was more than that.

According to Steve, Bucky had stopped sleeping. Stopped eating all together. He would disappear for days at a time, locking himself in parts of the Compound that he knew no one would ever check. He was even less responsive than he had been before the holidays began and you were getting very worried about your teammate.

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Operation: Christmas (Bucky x Reader)  
Note: Only a few more to go! Today we have a fic based on a request from @fandomxxxx for the team having a tradition style festivities to make Bucky more comfortable for his first Christmas in the Compound. I hope that you enjoy it and please let me know what you think!

Words: 1929

You can read my other festive one shots here: 25 Days of Fic-mas 

It had been subtle to start with. Little, completely believable excuses that no-one would ever question. As Christmas drew nearer, though, the excuses reared their head more frequently. It became more than simply disliking the festive choice of films on movie night or wanting to avoid the huge crowds when the team had been to switch on the Christmas lights.

The carefully iced sugar cookies that Sam proudly presented the team were left on the side, without a single crumb touched. Every sickeningly sweet concoction - ranging from the classic gingerbread hot chocolate to the unusually spiced fruit lattes - which Tony or Clint brought back from Starbucks was refused. When the familiar sound of jingle bells and cheesy Christmas music blared through the speakers, he would drop whatever he was doing and leave the room in an instant. Tony would sigh and call him a Grinch but you feared it was more than that.

According to Steve, Bucky had stopped sleeping. Stopped eating all together. He would disappear for days at a time, locking himself in parts of the Compound that he knew no one would ever check. He was even less responsive than he had been before the holidays began and you were getting very worried about your teammate.

It wasn’t even that you were particularly close to Bucky. He still hadn’t opened up to anyone other than Steve and, on occasion, Sam in the year since he’d arrived at the Compound (although he never seemed too happy to admit that he felt even remotely comfortable around the pilot). No, you weren’t even close to being friends with the soldier but he was a member of your team, your chosen family, and it broke your heart to see him suffering.

Christmas was meant to be a time to be with those you loved but for Bucky all of those people had died years, if not decades, ago. Everyone he’d ever known was gone and now he had to face a life so foreign to the one he’d had haunted with the knowledge of all the terrible things he’d done. Not only was he fighting ghosts but the world had changed while he’d been on ice. The modern world was so loud and in your face that it was no wonder he hid.

All it had taken was a short discussion with a few of the other Avengers for you to set a plan into motion. You wanted to help make Bucky feel comfortable in his new home without overwhelming him completely.

A few days after deciding to implement Operation: Christmas, you found yourself sat on the floor of the common room with the rest of the Avengers, embracing Tony’s annual tradition of decorating the tree. However, unlike normal, instead of the usual blinking lights and flashy ornaments - each coordinated to a specific person’s preferences - you were making the decorations.

It was actually a lot of fun. You made thin popcorn garlands, which ended up being a lot shorter than intended when Clint decided to steal the bowl and satisfy his permanent hunger. Even though it would have been expensive at the time, Tony threw tinsel strands over the branches, giving the 10 ft tree a little glamour.

Cheap plastic baubles from the dollar store were wrapped in old newspapers from storage as you laughed about the god awful pictures of the team that they contained. Small glass jars were painted (to varying degrees of success) with Christmas patterns and, after squeezing little candles inside, were hung on the tree using beautiful lengths of ribbon.

You all even had a go at carving little wooden ornaments, although the only one who were even remotely successful at that was Steve. His artistic abilities shone through amazing everyone, probably himself too. His little presents and cars balanced near the top of the tree, pride of place for everyone to see.

Throughout the day you sat near Bucky, who ignored the activities completely until Steve and Natasha rolled out an old record player. They had dug out a collection of old records, the most famous hits from back when Steve and Bucky were kids in Brooklyn. Even though the player was old, the sound was amazing and everyone got quite excited when the crackling vinyl began to play.

By your side, Bucky narrowed his gaze. He glanced between people, never returning the smiles sent his way, as he tried to work out what was happening. As lost as he may often have felt, Bucky wasn’t stupid. He knew that something was going on - he’d had his suspicions before and now he was sure - but he couldn’t figure out the why. Still, he stayed put in his chair in the corner, pretending not to watch the rest of the team dance around terribly to the music.

As Steve twirled you around to the beat so fast that you felt like you were floating on air - at least until he tripped over Clint’s boots and sent you crashing down to the ground. You’d have hit the floor with quite a thud if not for Bucky catching you. The moment you were back on your feet, he retreated back into himself, although not before muttering something along the lines of, “Still a clumsy punk.”

You thanked him for saving you but he shook it away as nothing, no doubt to make you leave him alone. That was exactly what you did, knowing that it would do no good to force him into joining. However, a few minutes later, you did hear him humming along to the next familiar tune. You swore that his shoulders dropped a little too, tension ebbing away as the music did its job.

The days passed and phase two of Operation: Christmas was set into motion. It was multi pronged and barely involved Bucky at all, to be honest. It was the charity side of Christmas which the Avengers did every year anyway, but this year it seemed even more important than usual.

The Team broke off into pairs and tackled a myriad of amazing projects. Clint and Bruce helped out in a soup kitchen. Sam and Steve did some work at the V.A. Natasha, Wanda and Vision helped a group of refugees get their documents in order. You stayed back with Tony, Rhodey and Pepper to write letters to kids around the country, steadily working through a substantial pot of funding to give them presents and experiences that would make their year.

Stretched out in front of the fire in the common room, surrounded by hundreds of hand drawn pictures and letters, you front as a shadow appeared above you. Looking up, you gave Bucky a smile and asked, “You decided to come help? Or is something wrong?”

Instead of answering, Bucky pulled three oranges from one pocket and a lump of coal from the other. His tone was short but you didn’t think he sounded angry, per say. More just sincerely confused. “I’ve been finding these in my socks and shoes for days, and yesterday someone left a new jumper by more door. What’s happening, Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me?” You weren’t scared of him - although the same couldn’t quite be said for the Soldier - but you couldn’t help how small your voice sounded.

Bucky’s muscles tightened and the plates in his arm whirled, guilt spreading over his face for making you even a little uncomfortable. He lowered his head and sighed. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter. I’ll leave you to this.”

“Don’t go,” you said, stretching up and catching his metal hand. “I noticed you were feeling a little overwhelmed by everything so we thought that it would be nice to do an old fashioned Christmas. Like you might have done back then. To make you feel more comfortable with everything. The first orange from me. I would guess that the coal is from Sam.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“Really, no one is gonna complain about it as it means that we don’t have to deal with Tony’s insane decorations everywhere. Last year, he had this huge fifteen foot elf at the door but its neck wasn’t strong enough to support the head so it kinda drooped and… Sorry, rambling…”

“It’s fine,” he said, looking up from the floor to meet your gaze. “Thank you. For doing this. For thinking of me.”

“Any time, Bucky. We’re teammates. Friends, I hope. I want you to feel a part of the family, you know.”

He didn’t have the words to convey his gratitude so simply smiled and left you to your letters. That evening, you found a candy cane on the handle to your bedroom door and a tangerine on the ground.

Come Christmas day, Bucky had opened up considerably. He still wasn’t overly talkative and didn’t go out of his way to get involved with anything but he had stopped finding reasons to leave. He even tried a few of Sam’s festive bakes and managed to say something almost kind in return.

Christmas dinner had been simple. Lots of meat, lots of potatoes and vegetables. Bacon and parsnips, sprouts that had been boiled to death. Just good hearty food. It was exactly how Bucky remembered but tasted so much better and there was so much more of it. Paired with fruit cocktails, spiked with a good tipple of Asgardian mead for the super soldiers and some good old fashioned vodka for the people with normal metabolisms, it was clearly one of the best meals that he had had in a long time.

The evening was rounded off with a less than honest game of monopoly in the common room. The banker was cheating. Wanda was using her telekinesis to roll the numbers she wanted. Natasha was stealing cards when she thought no one was looking. But everyone was stretched out on the floor, in their best pyjamas and wrapped up in thick, fluffy blankets and having fun.

Bucky even cracked a smile when Steve landed on his hotel and had to mortgage his properties to cover the rent. “We used to play this with Becca, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Steve said fondly. “I always used to win.”

“That’s because she felt sorry for your sorry ass. Every time you had an asthma attack, she’d use the distraction to slide extra money onto your pile.”

“That did not happen. I won fair and square.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Many, many hours later, the game was finally called to an end - mainly because every but you and Bucky had fallen asleep. You waved your hand at Bucky as you quietly shoved everything back into the box, refusing his help. Even when you had to sit on the lid to get it to close, you refused to admit that you needed assistance.

For his dues, Bucky just smiled to himself and kept quiet until you’d finally managed to squish it back into the cupboard. “Thanks, Y/N. For all of this.”

“It was the whole team, really…”

“You set it all into motion, though. I never thought that I’d ever feel comfortable here but because of this,” he said, gesturing at the crappy homemade decorations, the flickering candles and just overwhelming abundance of familiarity. “Well. You’ve given me something I thought I’d lost forever.”

“What’s that?”

“A home.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, tugging the blanket up to your nose in an attempt to hide the ridiculous grin on your face. “I’m glad to hear that. Really glad. Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”


End file.
